


snip snip

by kavsdick



Category: Inception (2010)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Pacific Rim Fusion, Canada, M/M, Multi, Sweaters, a hot mess of miscellany, so get ready for that y'all, these will probably all be cheesy as hell
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-11-16
Updated: 2015-11-15
Packaged: 2018-05-01 21:31:30
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 650
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5221637
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kavsdick/pseuds/kavsdick
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A collection of small, unrelated pieces for Arthur/Eames. Or just Arthur. Or just Eames. And maybe some other people, every now and again.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. 0722 - certified air raid material (the kaiju remix)

**Author's Note:**

> “But what they could do together... man, that would be a sight.”  
> Arthur and Eames and the PPDC (Pacific Rim fusion). Originally posted July 2014, title comes from a track by Kraddy. Art by me! A small sketch, mostly for the logo of their Jaeger.

\--

Eames first learned of the Kaiju when he was twenty-two.

_(New reports are in and the death toll is over fif– –an Francisco flatte– –calling them “Kaiju”–)_

Cocksure and willing, he decided that he’d had enough of life spent between paychecks – that is, stolen wallets and whatever small bags he could nick on the Tube – and tossed the last bit of his savings into a plane ticket out of Heathrow.

Nobody really had a chance to miss him.

\--

Arthur was pulled into the program at eighteen precisely. 

_(happy birthday and good luck! -mom)._

His national judo competition just happened to fall in early August of that year, and immediately after placing first in the division, Arthur was shepherded aside by a man in a suit that was decorated to the shoulders. “The future,” he’d said.

His parents probably miss him, but it’s been so long.

\--

_#7.1720-10_  
**CORE DATA:**  
DESIGNATION: SCARLET ACE  
CLASSIFICATION: MARK - 4  
OS: BLUE SPARK 5.3.1  
HEIGHT/WEIGHT: 302 FT/7,095 TONS 

\--

Arthur’s first drift test _(tripping and falling and catching on memories that weren’t his, weren’t his at all)_ is with a girl who’s just a few years older than he. “Mal,” she introduces herself as, a tight laugh hidden in her voice _(so like her mother’s, he knows now)_ and a smile lit behind her eyes. They meld well for first-timers, able to sync _(a woman singing, singing)_ and walk the Jaeger through the fields outside of _(endless space, endless mind)_ the base. Mal tells him the Jaeger’s name is Rouge Dynamo and he laughs _(crowded streets of sand filled wi–)_ and laughs until _(sweeping skyscra–)_.

He wakes, sick and sore and bleeding, in the infirmary. 

Mal’s one bed over, watching.


	2. heard from telegraph lines

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Originally posted NEVER!! This has been sitting in gdocs for... almost a year, it looks like. Title from Boards of Canada (ha ha, etc.). #specificity

It could be post-job, tired and quiet, in Athens. 

Or perhaps after dinner, tangled in the spark-bright lights of New York City, air conditioning humming through the muggy night air.

Arthur might be wearing a waistcoat. He may just as well be in a cashmere sweater and worn trousers. 

Eames will probably be wearing socks. 

For now though, they’re holed up in some back-alley apartment in who-even-knows-where, Canada and waiting for a phone call to send them on their merry way down the coast. It’s cold, damp, and smells vaguely of old pine. Eames is definitely wearing a thick, insulating jacket and Arthur’s got himself a proper beanie.

They wait, drinking old Folgers and lapsing into comfortable silences between quiet conversation. It takes two hours and thirty-four minutes before Arthur pulls off his hat and shucks his overcoat, standing from the armchair he'd claimed.

"I'm taking a shower," he announces, grabbing his small duffel from the floor, "let me know if Elena calls."

Eames nods, distracted by whatever he's doing on his mobile, and Arthur sets off down the tiny hallway and into the very tiny bathroom.

It takes Eames one minute and twenty-six seconds to follow.

He opens the door to Arthur wiggling the temperature knob about, the soft mist of the spray leaving a sheen on his styled hair. Arthur looks up, a half smile quirking his lips and a bit of fringe falling onto his forehead,

"News already?" he jokes, straightening up.

"Oh yes," Eames says, "dreadful business about us having to share a shower and all, tragic. I heard we may even sleep together." Eames waggles his brows for effect and Arthur laughs brightly.

"That _is_ tragic," he steps forward and begins pulling at the buttons of Eames layers, "Can't imagine it'd be any fun at all." 

"Certainly not, but no need to take it out on the Belstaff, love." Eames eases Arthur's fingers from the front of his jacket and takes a moment to hang it on the towel hook outside the door. Arthur lets out a small, indulgent laugh and steps back, pulling his half-buttoned Oxford over his head and his belt from its loops.


End file.
